Watch the World Burn
by Caidence Ryan
Summary: How do you describe Sarah Harker? To borrow from Bill Pullman,"She drives you so nuts you don't know whether to hug her or, or just really arm wrestle her."  How will this stubbornly sweet childhood friend get along with a certain angel? Season 3-present


_**Watch the World Burn- Chapter 1- My Life Would Suck Without You**_

_**Authors Note: **__ I cannot guarantee that this is going to be any good. In fact, I am very hesitant to post this. This character has been riding along with me for a while and she won't quite leave me alone. So I am writing this as a standalone who may or may not find her way into a bigger story, one which finds her in an unlikely pairing with a certain angel. If you are interested in seeing this, let me know._

I have a crazy life. I know it, the waitress that just dropped off my strawberry milkshake knows it, hell I'm sure that the American people know it. Certainly, the two dingbats that I call my friends and occasional hunting buddies know it.

That said, it goes without saying that I do not generally get the time or the luxury to enjoy the little things in life. To stop and smell the roses, you might say. So, when I do have a moment to stop and experience the simple pleasure of a dairy based dessert food, it goes without saying that it is more or less a sacred occasion.

Yet my friends just do not seem to get that this is a time for peace. They are currently doing what they do best: bickering. I'm used to it, of course. I practically grew up with them and on any other occasion I'd sit back , laugh, and then stage an intervention the likes of which most world powers would be envious of. Right now though, I am annoyed and could care less what Sam did to piss his big brother off or vice versa.

I just want to eat my damn milkshake in some semblance of peace.

I take a small sip of my milkshake….mmmm strawberry….and peer at tweedle dee and tweedle doofus. I'm barely paying attention over the sugar induced euphoria that is clouding my brain, but I open my ears up just in time to hear Sam say,

"Dude we CANNOT use her for this one."

Ah. Great. They are fighting over what I am assuming to be me. To confirm this, I put down my straw and clear my throat.

"Her being me?" As if he had suddenly remembered that I was there, Dean whipped his head toward me and flashed me his cocky grin of his.

"Hey princess, how's that milkshake." I roll my eyes.

"Answer the damn question." Dean shrugs.

"Uh. Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"Not generally. I like being popular. My problem is how you two always seem to get to talking like I'm not here."

"To be fair you generally aren't here, when you're eating." Sam said jokingly.

"Be that as it may, it's still somewhat rude." I said as I stirred the pink liquid with my straw.

"Dude,since when are you the manners police?" I shrugged off the question.

"Mind telling me what you two were bickering about?" Sam sighed.

"Carson, Massachusetts. A serial killer named Alan Hubert was shot and killed a few year s back. Trouble is, he seems to still be there."

"Yeah, the dead bastard seems to still have a thing for red heads." I scrunched my face up in thought, tilting my head to the left as I am prone to do in such situations. Dean thinks that it makes me "look like a friggin' dog".

"Six women over the past three months." Sam replied without hesitation.

"I'm only surprised they have that many gingers in one place" Dean quipped as he reached over , picking up a French fry from my plate, dipping it in my milkshake, and popping it in his mouth. I kicked him under the table.

"If I wanted salty fried foods in my beverage, I'd have asked for it, you manwhore." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Aw come on you know you love it princess." I turned my attention to Sam.

"So what's the problem? It seems pretty straightforward." Dean started smirking.

"Too tall over here thinks that it's too dangerous for you, being a ginger and all." I glanced at Sammy who was glaring daggers at his big brother. It really was sweet how protective the boys could be when it came to me. The boys often took turns on who was going to play the part of overbearing big brother and I suppose today it was Sammy's turn.

See, I grew up without family in what basically amounted to a hunters' foster care system where I would be moved from one family of hunters to another. I finally ended up with Bobby Singer, who apparently seems to draw strays to himself because much of the time that I lived with Bobby, Sam and Dean were a constant presence.

I guess you could say we are like really odd cousins.

" Red hair aside, why would it be any more dangerous to me than it would be to you two?" Sam looked down at his food, desperately trying to stay on my good side. Dean leaned back, not even trying to hide his pleasure at seeing his big little brother squirm.

"Uh…well…I just meant that well…the last hunt, it uh… Dean, help me out here?"

"No, no you got yourself into this one. You can get yourself out."Dean turned to me. "It's because unlike me, Sammich over there is sexist and doesn't respect your equal right to getting your ass kicked."

I snorted. It wasn't like I wasn't used to having to defend my ability to hold my own in a hunt. Not a day went by where there was some hunter in a bar making cracks about my gender or short stature. I am a puny girl. Yeah. I get it. What got me was that no matter how many things I killed or how many lives I saved, that was all that it came down to. I have boobs and produce estrogen, so obviously I was not capable.

That did not mean though that I was a militant feminist about it. I liked using it to my advantage. People underestimate you if you are a tiny female. I can fly under the radar and the baddies tend to assume that I cannot defend myself. I call it a win.

My reason though, for snorting was that if anyone at this table was a sexist goober, it was el Deano over there. So I patted Sam on the shoulder and proceeded to let it go.

"Aw…..Sammy I appreciate your concern, but if we need to be concerned over anyone it's Dean and his inability to go a day without having something maiming him. Hey Dean, do you hear that? I think I hear the AARP calling" Dean's face screwed up in annoyance.

"Seriously Sarah? I make one crack about you being a chick the other day and I get my ass handed to me verbally, but Sam is being Mr. Macho over there and somehow I still end up the butt of the joke?"

"Sam didn't stick a French fry in my milkshake. There's no coming back from that."

"Bitch." Dean mumbled under his breath as he searched for his wallet.

"Whore." Sam laughed quietly at his brother's frustration.

"Yeah laugh it up Chuckles, are we goin' or what? " We scooted out of the booth and paid for the food.

"Hey I'll catch up with you guys in a minute, gotta put gas in my baby." Dean looked at me, his eyes humorless.

"That hunk of junk you drive in has no right to be called that." I rolled my eyes.

"The fact remains that it needs gas. I shouldn't be more than a few minutes. Go ahead and I'll catch up."

"Yeah, well hurry up, I don't have all year you know." I frowned at the reminder of the short time I had left with my friend and buried the sadness deeply within myself.

"No one said you had to wait dumbass. Just drive ahead, I'll catch up." Dean nodded and headed to the Impalla, Sam in tow. I watched them leave and headed for my beat up Buick. I popped the trunk and searched the back for what I was looking for. A summoning kit. I held it in my hands, thinking seriously about it, wondering what I would be willing to bargain so that my best friend wouldn't have to go to hell. A moment passed and I cursed , throwing the kit back into the trunk and slamming it shut. I swallowed my tears and quietly prayed for an intervention.

As I filled my gas tank and started my drive northward, I never imagined that someone might be listening.

_If you want more, please let me know. I love this character and have a lot of adventures for her I my head. _


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